


He's So Bad

by Blownwish



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Bisexuality, M/M, Yaoi, manwhoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:25:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9813158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/pseuds/Blownwish
Summary: Alphonse Elric, the unrepentant pickup artist, is on a mission to save his brother from perpetual loneliness. (RoyEd, Al x anything with a pulse)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Google "adult Alphonse Elric," and ask yourself what a genius-wunderkind, who got _that_ face and body after an adolescence without either, would be doing.

Who ever said Alphonse Elric was the good Elric Brother was a fool. He might have seemed like the good one, after all, he gave off the aura of a sweet, sweet cinnabon and had the smile of an angel, but this was bullshit. Alphonse Elric was a pickup artist. Yes, a fucking _shameless manwhore_ , as in _unrepentant hedonist_ , as in _Alphonse Elric was out to charm the pants and/or panties off of any given target_. (Dear, sweet Alphonse was a flexible young man.)

Once his body was restored to health, he set out on a mission. Yes, the very mission outlined in what seemed like a list of foods Alphonse yearned to taste while his soul was sealed in that tin can of an armored suit for what seemed like eternity. What people didn't realize, thanks to the pity he parlayed as a shield against more inquisitive minds, was that this was no ordinary list of foods written by young boy without body innocently dreaming of the day he could blissfully eat. No! Alphonse was an alchemist, and like any good alchemist, he liked keeping secrets in code. That list was a list of names, not edibles, which he _certainly_ planned to devour. And he would, each and every one, although he didn't manage to cross them off in the order he had written. That was fine. After all, he was a patient young man. 

He set out for Central, first. This seemed like a natural choice given recent history (and cheaper train fare). And there he lost what could pass for his innocence with Sheska, who he charmed out of her knickers after two cups of cheap black tea and a few lines of cheaper erotic poetry. Lieutenant Ross was a tad more challenging. She was less than impressed with the flowers, but terribly easy once he bit his lip and coyly toed an imaginary pebble on the sidewalk. Maria was so sweet, she cooked him dinner afterward. After a couple of beers and a spread of hoagies, Paninya introduced him to automail pegging, which Alphonse enjoyed quite a bit. (Maybe too much?) Alphonse was seen knocking on the door of one very irritable Brigadier General Armstrong, whose mood changed, as she was more than happy to _show Alphonse the ropes_ (and whips, and chains, and gags, etc.), all because he gushed over her tactical brilliance and shiny sword for a few minutes. Lieutenant Hawkeye let him go under the table after half a bottle of whiskey and several rounds of one-on-one strip poker. (It was a draw.)

Alphonse traveled across Amestris, continuing this pattern of charming and disarming his way into bedrooms (or any room, for that matter), much to his brother's disgust. He was shameless, absolutely shameless. Edward said so, in several reprimanding letters written in angry shorthand code the unsuspecting eye would assume to be banal, brotherly correspondence. For example, the following represented general Edward's general disapproval:

_Heard you met up with Rose. Hope she's doing well. (And standing in her own two legs!) I always thought she was nice._

Translation:

_So you just had to fuck Rose, huh? Better hope you didn't knock her up. (You're luck's running out!) You knew I used to like her, too, asshole._

Alphonse wasn't surprised. Edward had an expressively puritanical streak, which explained why he never touched the lovely Rose ( _She's getting over her dead boyfriend!_ ), couldn't tolerate considering the ever-ready Winry (what a waste!), and refused to ever even acknowledge - under any circumstances! - the terminal attraction he had toward a certain commanding officer who-shall-not-be-named. This absurd mode of operation was what jettisoned this quest. As a soul-in-a-can, Alphonse was horrified that his own brother didn't fully appreciate the privilege of having a body with those fantastic senses, and as a red blooded man Alphonse would rather be back in that can than deny them. 

One day in East City he was reading another vitriolic exercise in Edwardian pearl-clutching, when he heard a familiar voice, like sex and caramel chocolates, on the radio: Brigadier General Roy Mustang. 

_Oh_.

Alphonse had already had a taste of the masculine side of things, having spent some time in Rush Valley (Garfiel was a consummate gentleman), then enjoying the company of the ever-lonely Lieutenant Havoc (who sobbed when Alphonse held him). There were others, of course. (So many more!) Sergeant Fuery, the closet sadist (who knew?), Jerso, who cracked so many jokes that Alphonse laughed while he came, and that crafty seventeen year old waiter, Rudolph (Alphonse would ever look at napkin rings the same way, again) - just to name a few. 

Mustang was easy to find (the bar closest to his office), and easy to chat up ( _What do you do after you save the world?..._ etc). Alphonse followed him into the restroom and it all fell apart. 

_You look so much like him_. He said that while Alphonse was on his knees, about to do the deed. 

_God, I can't..._ When Alphonse stood up and tried to kiss him. 

_I'm sorry, it's just...Edward..._ As he stumbled out of the restroom. 

What did his brother write in his letter, after Alphonse mentioned 'taking a meeting' with the Brigadier General? 

_Bet the bastard hasn't changed on iota. Why you wanted to see him is a fucking mystery to me. To hell with him._

Translation: 

_So what? Do you get off on making me mad? Because this made me really mad, asshole_.

General Mustang was pathetic, and so was Edward. These two idiots were in love with each other and they were too pig headed to do anything about it! Ignoring sex was terrible, but ignoring love was insane! Alphonse bought a train ticket for the next Risenbool. He was on a new mission to save his stupid, pearl clutching brother from himself. 

He walked six miles from the station to the Rockbell home, once he arrived back in town. He didn't have to knock. He didn't even have to come to the door. Edward was sitting on the porch, glaring like a disapproving maiden aunt in Pinako’s rocking chair. 

"Well, well, well. The prodigal son has returned."

"Hello, Brother."

"Before you go in, you're going to promise me two things." Edward pushed himself off Pinako's rocking chair and bounded down the steps in hard, dramatic stomps. 

"There are no babies, Brother. I use condoms every time. And I'm not going to seduce Winry. Those are the two, right?" Lies!

He shook his finger in his face. "I hate it when you do that!" 

"Although it is a little late, if you're worried about my having slept with Winry at all." 

The fight was years in the making: Fists and words and feet and knees and cuts to the bone. 

"You're disgusting!" 

"You're overbearing!"

"You're just like our father!"

"And you think you're my father!"

"Fuck you!"

"No! _Fuck you!_ "

Dust settled and revealed Alphonse the winner, straddling Edward's torso to the ground, pinning his arms over his head. They gasped for air as they glared.

"What're you gonna do, Alphonse? Fuck me, too? Might as well."

"Quit being dramatic and just shut up, Brother!" He slammed his wrists over his head one more time. Then he smiled the smile of an angelic cinnabon and _laughed_. "You actually want me to do that?" He rolled away and laughed some more. "Oh, Brother! I knew it! Virginity warped you into a pervert!"

"I didn't say that!" 

Alphonse's jump barely avoided Edward's lethal automail kick. "You can't take it back! There are witnesses!" He waived at the porch right before he dodged a punch. 

"Edward, stop flirting with your brother. It's disgusting." Pinako tapped her pipe. Winry blushed and bit her nail oh-so-deliciously as she waived. "Boys, get inside and clean up - separately."

Winry laughed as Alphonse pushed Edward aside and scooped her up, brushing his lips against hers with a quick peck. "Welcome home, Alphonse!"

"Stop that!" Pinako and Edward both hollered at them. 

Alphonse traipsed up the steps and smiled down at Pinako. "Hello, Granny."

She sighed the sigh of a thousand lifetimes as she peered over her glasses. "Your brother's right about one thing. I can certainly see your father in you."

"Oh?"

She chuckled. "In one specific regard, absolutely."

Granny... and his father...? 

Alphonse Elric was a pick up artist, no doubt. He had a way with words and (finally!) the body to back them up, and he knew how to use them both. But that day, on that porch, in that moment, he was at a loss for words. 

Granny Pinako _and father!_

"Get yer skanky ass inside, Al!" Edward shoved him in as Pinako snickered at his red face. “It's gonna take a lot of scrubbing to clean you up."

"Granny said, clean up separately!" Winry was ready to help Alphonse, he was sure, but he shook his head with a wink (habit) and bounded up the steps, regretfully alone. 

It took all of his patience and two steins of stout to corner Edward on the porch after days of evil eyes, evasion and silent treatment. 

"General Mustang is in love with you." Alphonse knew he had to make his words count since Edward had a long, proud history of jumping up and walking away from conversations he didn't want to have. 

"And you know this because he confessed his love while you were trying to do him." Edward blew the head off his stout and slurped, oh-so loudly. "Seriously, man. Don't even try telling me this shit, okay? I don't wanna hear the bastard's name for as long as I fucking live. And incidentally, I'm only talking to you because you're my brother. Otherwise I'd still be kicking your ass."

"Firstly, you could never kick my ass, and you know it. Secondly, you're in love with him, too. You've loved him for years and now you're scared."

"Not talking about him, period. And you fucked Winry." He took a long, long drink. 

"And Rose." Alphonse put his stein between his knees and turned his head toward the explosion of stars sprayed across the sky as Edward stared into his drink. "And a lot of other people. I'm alive, Brother! I've got this body and I can feel so many things, now! Isn't that what you wanted for me? Why would you want me to ignore it? Don't you want to know what you're missing?" 

"I do."

"I kept telling you because I wanted you to experience it, even if it was second hand, just like the old days when you were describing Mrs Hughes' apple pie."

"Will you stop telling me what I already know and listen, stupid? No shit you wanna _introduce me to sex_. You were always an egotistical, competitive little fucker." He flicked Alphonse's forehead as he shifted closer. "I've had sex, jackass. Quit acting like you invented it or something." He took another long swig and belched loud enough to make the firmament tremble. 

"Who? When?"

Edward's quick glare spoke volumes which would have taken up countless shelves in a secret library. _It was General Mustang! Of course! No wonder Edward refused to talk about him!_

"So go to East City and -"

"What? Live happily ever after? Bite me. Not a chick, Alphonse."

"No, just..." He took his brother's hand and wished he could put it in the General's. "Do what you really want to do. Whatever that is."

Edward stared at their linked hands. "He used to tell me how much he loved me all the time. It pissed me off because I wanted to say it back, so bad."

"Why didn't you?"

"It felt like betraying you." He let his hand go. "Now it feels so stupid. I feel so stupid. It's just..."

Alphonse wanted to shake him until his brains fell out. What an idiot! "I'm going back to East City. Mai's sending an envoy to meet me, soon. See me off before I go to Xing?"

Edward nodded. "Maybe."

Alphonse pushed his shoulder against his. 

"Okay, probably."

He did it again. 

"Stop. I'll go." Edward groaned as Alphonse tortured him with hugs and the loudest platonic sighs he ever iterated. 

"Stop touching your brother, Edward!" Pinako magically appeared like a wrinkled, wingless fairy. 

"He's the one all over me!"

Yes, Alphonse Elric was a pickup artist of the worst sort. He managed to sleep with Winry a second, third and fourth time before leaving for the station with Edward, then flirt shamelessly with the fetching blond boy at the ticket counter (his number was written on Alphonse's pass), and sweet talk the train attendant into free tea (and a hand job in the back). Edward was so disgusted, he swore he would disown Alphonse by the time they stepped on Central's platforms. 

"You're a sick man, you know that?"

"Whatever you say." He checked his watch, hoping his phone call wasn't in vain. Surely, the other party would be here by now? 

"Hypersexuality is a mental disorder, Al! You gotta do something about - _What the fu-?!_ ”

Alphonse tapped his watch. “Finally!”

The glee Alphonse felt as Edward dropped his bags, as General Mustang appeared out of nowhere, as he was swooped up in the air, as he cursed and kicked, as he was silenced with a kiss by his one and only love, was more thrilling than Alphonse's first time with Sheska in the stacks of Central Library. Alphonse punched the air and beamed as strangers stopped and clapped for the most ridiculously romantic greeting in the history of Central Station. "There is such thing as Happily Ever After, Brother!" Alphonse knew, because he was looking right at it. Mission, accomplished! 

A cute brunette in uniform winked at Alphonse while his brother, red faced and horrified, was taken away among a throng of cheers. Alphonse coyly toed a pebble in the platform as she sauntered his way. "Hi." He bit his lip as she smiled up at him. 

Edward was right: He was so damn bad.


End file.
